Origins
by brighttalonrose
Summary: A Namekian origin story. Other stories to follow, maybe. T for themes.
1. Namekians

High in the sky above, the clouds were shaking off their winter greys. The residents of the Look-Out, home to the guardian of Earth, were glad that the spring sun chased away the cold air, and that they could now go outside without a scarf.

The Look Out's high-ceilinged library was in shambles, books strewn across surfaces and misplaced into shelves; the product of much complacent use in the cold months. A spring cleaning was in order, and was left in the charge of Dende and Gohan, who had insisted on helping out.

Standing up from inspecting the base of an imposing stack of tomes, Gohan pushed his glasses back in place and ran a hand through his short hair. He looked up toward Dende, the teen Namekian humming to himself while scrutinizing a shelf for misplaced volumes near the top of the bookcase.

"Hey, Dende."

"Just a second." Dende grabbed a book from the shelf, and floated down to the floor near Gohan, placing the book on a stack. "What is it?"

"I was wondering about that song.", Gohan leaned back against a table. "I've never heard it before."

"Oh. It's an old Namekian folk song. It tells the story of how my people came to be."

"Neat.", Gohan raised his eyebrows in interest. "Do you know the words?"

"Well, yes, of course, but they're in Namekian."

"I don't suppose you have an English version?", Gohan smiled half-heartedly.

Dende shook his head. "No, English words have too many syllables to fit properly, but...", Dende raised a hand to his mouth a moment, "I guess it'd be alright if I just tell it to you." He leaned on the edge of a table opposite Gohan.

"Sure. I could use a break anyhow."

Dende looked around the library for a minute, collecting his thoughts, then began his tale.

This story starts as far back as anyone can recall, which is as close the beginning as you can ever get. It is said that there were two brothers of equal strength; the elder fashioned from the vast cold of space, the younger from the warmth of a thousand-year sun.

The Sun brother had the power to create, so he made bodies for himself and for his brother, and they set themselves down on a nearby planet, already teeming with life below it's vast freshwater oceans. Wanting to share the beauty of their new home, the Sun brother created an intelligent race in their image; the first Namekians.

Soon enough a strong society was formed, and they gave thanks and praised the Sun brother, who was given status as a God. They bestowed upon him the name Yceli, meaning brilliance.

During all this the elder brother watched from a shadow of jealousy. Often during this time, noises were heard in the night, and in the morning things were found torn up and scattered. Malicious acts surely, but none were ever harmed. The Namekians suspected the elder brother, and as a precaution named him God as well; Brixtin, meaning consequence.

Still not as popular as his brother, Brixtin's jealousy only continued to consume him, and he turned to pray on his brother's most beloved creations. During the night he was so recently named Lord of, by way of using transformational magics, he found his way into the homes and beds of the people; killing, destroying relationships and trust among neighbours.

Yceli, who also slept during the night, was made aware of this by the most recent Namekian Brixtin had taken advantage of. His outrage great, Yceli called his brother from the shadows, and demanded to know why his brother would want to destroy what they had built. Brixtin didn't speak, but instead lashed out towards his brother, consumed by hatred.

Their fierce confrontation split open the sky and caused the oceans to boil, but with the faith of his people rallying behind him, Yceli emerged victorious, banishing his brother back to the cold prison of space.

Wishing the best for his people, he created two more suns, so they would never fear the grip of night again. Fearing that his brother had tainted them, he changed their bodies to avoid such debauchery, and altered them so only the young innocents would need to sleep.

After these great feats, he bid his creations farewell, as he needed to rest, and promised that if Brixtin should ever return, he will return as well.

"And did they ever come back?", Gohan was leaning inwards.

"I don't think so. Not that I was ever told."

"It seems you weren't told a lot." Piccolo emerged from behind a bookcase.

The other two looked at him quizzically. "What'd'you mean?", Gohan asked.

"The version I know takes it in another direction.", he leaned on the bookcase. "The basic story is the same, but the details are different. Yceli creates the Namekian race, but Brixtin takes an interest and goes to live amongst them as an equal. Yceli wants to do the same, but everywhere he goes he's recognized and revered. He gets frustrated and becomes jealous of his brother.

The Namekians invite Brixtin into their homes, so he can have a place to rest during the day. Then at night, while Brixtin is away, Yceli destroys the rooms that his brother had stayed in, and manages to convince others that Brixtin had done it.

No longer welcome, Brixtin tries to find somewhere else to rest, and is let into the home of a Namekian who hasn't been convinced by Yceli. Soon enough, the Namekian is more devoted to Brixtin than to Yceli, and Yceli's jealous turns to anger. He calls out his brother, and Brixtin tries to explain, but Yceli attacks.

Fuelled by his rage and his people's misplaced trust, Yceli uses magic to destroy Brixtin's left hand and eye. But being a god of creation, his eye is replaced with a blue glass and his hand with one made of wooden clockwork, white like the trees on Namek.

Victorious, Yceli declares that from then on, as punishment for his crimes, anything living Brixtin touches will die. Not wanting any harm to come to the people by his hand, Brixtin leaves. Not satisfied by his brothers retreat, Yceli chases after him. As he goes, he leaves it so darkness can not return and so no one can be devoted to anyone but him."

"T-that can't be right." Dende looks at the floor, distressed.

"I didn't say that it was right.", Piccolo looks over at Dende. "It's just what I've heard."

"What you've heard? Haven't you been on Earth most of your life?", Dende frowns. "Nobody on Namek knows that version, I know that much. So where did you hear it?"

A/N: Yes, I wonder.

A few years back, before the introduction of gods into the Dragonball franchise (the Kaio-shin don't count), I had three god OCs of my own; my Namekian brothers Brixtin and Yceli, who only got his name now, and my Sayian goddess Tae (Tay, an anagram of tea), because if there's anything a male Sayian should fear, it's angering a female one.

Anyhow, due to evolution and things, everything has a reason for the way they are, so I figured, why not a Namekian race headcannon? Hardly any background is given in the show except for "the Grand Elder was the only one to survive this weird-ass bout of shit weather, so he spat all of us up to repopulate the planet". Okay, that's a lie, one kid was shipped off to Earth where he ended up as the Nameless Namek - Kami & King Piccolo - Piccolo Jr. - Kamiccolo, but whatever.

Also, part of this headcannon that I couldn't really find a place to put it is that the Dragon Clan were originally a following of Yceli's, which makes the Warrior Clan Namekians Brixtin's. It fits well considering the views of Dende and Piccolo, too.

Have any of your own race headcannons? If so, drop a comment, I'd love to hear them! And thank you for reading!


	2. Ice-jins

"That man is impossible!", Hailen's small figure shook with rage as they walked down the hall, away from the throne room. "Sleet, I've been a physician for longer than he's been walking! I know the anatomy of species you've never ever seen! Hundreds of them! I'm qualified— Hell, I'm over-qualified, and he won't even give me the time of day!"

Sleet was laughing on the inside. Hailen had been off planet for a long time, and he had forgotten how amusing the diminutive Ice-jin could be. "That's probably why.", he was fighting a smile and losing. "Lord Cold has always tried to be very self-reliant. He probably thinks that you think you know everything; he's never been a fan of people telling him what to do."

Hailen glared at the air in front of him, gray skin crinkling at the corners of his old eyes. "One of these days, I'm going to give him the what for."

"Of course. I doubt he'd listen, though.", Sleet grabbed the doctor's shoulder to stop him from walking past the door to the medical center.

Hailen punched in the code for the door with some force, and entered the familiar room, weaving around equipment to get to his desk in the back. Shuffling papers aside, he sat down on the top, three-toed feet dangling far off the ground. "I really can't believe him, though.", he ran his hands over his head and drew them down his neck. "Barely a year into his reign and already with child."

"Hm.", Sleet nods. It seems not so long ago that he was tasked with looking after the young Prince Cold. "He probably doesn't want to make the mistake of waiting too long." Cold's father Glache, the previous King, had put off having a heir until the end of his reign. He was aged when Cold was born, and never quite fully recovered from the ordeal. Without enough strength to run an empire and keep up with a young son, he passed him off onto Sleet, a member of council.

"And I don't want him making the mistake of trying to do this on his own." Hailen shook his head tiredly. "Don't you think you can talk him out of it?"

Sleet remembers the days when he took the young Cold into the city surrounding the castle. His older brother ran a shop a few roads off the main, and when he'd go for a visit sometimes he'd taking his charge along to play with his brother's sons. One day, his brothers eldest wasn't home, so the younger had to help out and didn't have time to play.

"Well, where is he?", little Cold had asked. He liked the eldest brother, who always talked to him like an adult. When Sleet's brother had said that he went off to have his child, Cold asked why he couldn't just do it there.

"There's an old peasant's tale that if you deliver a child on your own, out in the cold away from others, and survive a night, just the two of you, then they'll grow up strong, with good luck.", Sleet explained.

"That doesn't sound so hard.", Cold turned his face up. "I bet _I_ could do it."

"No, I don't think I could.", said Sleet, pulling himself back to the present. He thought of Cold's childhood confidence. Even now in his early adulthood he could see the same determination in his eyes; _I said I was going to do it and I will._ Recently, Cold had been showing signs of his condition; he touches his chest and smiles when—_Bleep, bleepbleepbleep._

Sleet pulls his communicator from his armor. The screen reads _Chief of Guard Force_.

Out of the way, tucked inside a cave of ice is King Cold, armour discarded. On hands an knees, he throws his weight repeatedly against a wall. He tries to use the pain of his shoulder to distract from the searing in his chest; the drops of purple on ice, melting into rivers from his too heavy breath. For the first time in his life, he doubts himself, and grits he teeth. He has to push through. So does his son.

Curling in on himself, he puts a hand to the coloured plate on his chest. He's right there. He can feel his child straining, swears he can see him through the plate. _Brake through._

"I've found him.", Sleet calls it in from the western city wall. "You guys can head back to your posts," he tells the Guard, "I'll take it from here."

"What are you going to do?", the voice of the Chief Guard is almost drowned out by the planet's constant cold wind.

"I'll monitor his strength from here; he wanted to do this alone. I'll call if I need you."

"Right.", the Chief signed off.

Sleet watched the numbers. _Jump, fall, jump, fall, _a continuous trend. Contractions. _Jump, fall, jump, fall, jump, fall... no change. Bleep. _A second, small number. Sleet sighed in relief, and continued to watch the numbers through the night.

A/N: So, unlike the previous one, this story is actually about canon characters! Sort of, 'cept, y'know, Cooler isn't really considered canon, 'cause movies, but, yeah. Really, there's only two canon Ice-jins; Frieza and his Daddy. Then the non-canon Cooler, Chilled(ancestor in one of the Bardock specials), Kuriza(Frieza's son, apparently), and Froze(Ice-jin character in Dragonball Heroes video game[Japan only]).

I was gonna have an end piece about raising Cooler & the arrival of Frieza, but I thought that would be a nice place to leave off. And I'm lazy.

Also, I accidentallied some OCs there. Hailen, Sleet, Glache & their back stories were really just there to set up the whole "How do Ice-jins reproduce?" question, but I guess they've earned a spot on the list.

I figured since the Ice-jins have the look of both genders that they should either be asexual or all be hermaphrodites (both parts). Considering the total lack of anything resembling genitalia on the Ice-jin body, I chose asexual. I didn't want them to throw up eggs like Namekians, so I had to think up a feature that all of them have. I noticed that they all have this shiny colored patch on their chest in every form, then BOOM, headcanon. Seems really painful, though.

On that cheerful note, I hope you enjoyed my little slice of headcanon, and feel free to leave your own! As always, thank you for reading!

Now if only I could figure out a way to make Tae's story relevant...


End file.
